


heavy lies the crown (as i cut you down)

by cjmasim



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2017-2018 NHL Season, 5+1 Things, Curses, Goalie Interference, Injury, M/M, Magical Realism, Non-Linear Narrative, Overdramatic Referees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 00:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14484210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmasim/pseuds/cjmasim
Summary: Once the referee is out of his sight, Auston laughs a little in disbelief.This guy can't have been serious, he thinks to himself.-Or, five times the refs get their revenge on the players, and one time the players get their revenge on the refs.





	heavy lies the crown (as i cut you down)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea sitting around since Jack and Auston's iconic celebration at the All Star Game, and apparently game 1 between the Bruins and Lightning was all I needed to spur me into finally writing it. Somehow, I ended up staying up until 6:30 in the morning writing this, and I was quite surprised when I saw the word count. 
> 
> See the end notes for detailed (but spoilery) warnings.
> 
> Title from Violence (Enough is Enough) by A Day to Remember, because I listened to a lot of that band while writing this.
> 
> Also: if you found this by googling your name or the name of someone you know personally, it's probably best if you save us both the discomfort and just don't read this.
> 
> Enjoy!

**1: Auston Matthews**

_January 22, 2018_  
   
Auston sees the puck coming from Willy to his left, and he taps it with his stick, but it goes just wide. Zach is there, thankfully, and the puck bounces off of him and onto Auston's skate, or stick; he isn't entirely sure, but it goes five-hole, past Bernier, past the goal line, and into the net. He slides into an Avalanche player and falls to the ice, but it doesn't matter; he just scored, they're up 2-1, and Willy is skating over, lowering himself to the ice, and Zach is coming over to join their celebration.  
   
It's not the biggest goal he's ever scored, obviously, but Auston's elated nonetheless. They've taken the lead; another goal or two for insurance and the game should be safely theirs. He had been tackled to the ice in a hug from Willy, too, so really, it was quite the fun goal.  
   
He gets up, skates back to the bench, and gets his celebratory fist pumps before sitting down.  
   
As it turns out, however, it may not have been the fun goal he had thought it to be. Because the goal is under review. And after a moment of sitting on the bench, aggravated with Bednar for challenging a goal that was obviously good, frustrated with the refs for taking too long, he hears the call from the referee.  
   
"Upon further video review, we've determined that there was goaltender interference on the play. No goal!"  
   
"What the fuck?"  
   
"That's fucking bullshit!"  
   
"Are you fucking blind?"  
   
Those and similar pleasantries are shouted by the Leafs players, and Auston is fucking pissed. That was a perfectly good goal; he's sure of it. He would've known if he had interfered with the goalie. He's absolutely certain that he did not.  
   
Of course, the call has already been made. There's nothing that he can do other than score another goal to make up for it.  
   
-  
   
He does exactly that.  
   
Two full minutes haven't even passed in this game, and Auston scores another goal, putting the Leafs back up 2-1, right where they're supposed to be.  
   
It's a clean, simple goal: Willy passes to him from across the ice, Auston shoots it straight into the net, and the horn sounds. No complications. No chance of review.  
   
He isn't thinking about the media when he sticks his arm out, right in the direction of the net, imitating the referee, signaling that it's a good goal. He's just thinking about how sweet it is to know that the refs can't take this one away from him.  
   
"Let's go!" He yells, as Willy and Travis skate over to him. They're back in this.  
   
-  
   
They end up losing the game; the Leafs Leaf again, giving up three unanswered goals, and they fall at home. Auston can't help but to wonder if the score would've turned out differently if his goal hadn't been disallowed – probably not, he reasons, but he's still petty.  
   
He's leaving the locker room when a man approaches him. The man is wearing the black and white stripes typical of referees, but the lights are uncharacteristically dim, so Auston can't see his face.  
   
"Matthews," the referee calls, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him.  
   
"Yeah?" He's never been approached by a referee off the ice before, nor has he ever seen the lights of the ACC this low so soon after a game, so he's not entirely sure what to expect, but he is a little bit concerned.  
   
"You have made a grave mistake. Your so-called celebration made a mockery out of the most prestigious position in hockey, and for that, you will pay. Not immediately, but within the month, you will see the consequence of your blatant disrespect."  
   
Auston is speechless, but before he can even try to formulate a response, the ref removes his hand from his shoulder and swiftly walks away.  
   
Once the referee is out of his sight, Auston laughs a little in disbelief.  
   
_This guy can't have been serious_ , he thinks to himself.  
   
-  
   
_February 10, 2018_

His phone buzzes.  
   
_I don't want anything to happen to you._  
   
Auston knows that Jack is just being paranoid; he's probably high on pain medication, and if he were in the right state of mind, he certainly wouldn't believe that the refs put some kind of curse on them both.  
   
_It won't_ , he promises.  
   
-  
   
_February 22, 2018_  
   
He scores another goal exactly one month later, against the Islanders, and the Leafs are up 4-3. He doesn't get to revel in the feeling for long, however.  
   
On the first shift after his goal, Auston is sandwiched between two Islanders, and his shoulder explodes with pain. He skates back to the bench, and all he can think about is the pain. It isn't the worst he's ever felt, but it's all-consuming nevertheless; he knows he's going to miss a few games. Maybe more, though he desperately hopes not.  
   
Before he goes down the tunnel, he feels someone watching him – not just the concerned gazes of his teammates, coaches, and fans, but a piercing gaze that, somehow, even through the distraction of the pain, feels almost cruel, though Auston isn't sure how he knows this. He looks up, and sees a referee immediately turn away, caught in the act.  
   
He had almost forgotten about the referee's threat, but he's reminded of it now.  
   
-  
   
When he's finally back home, resting not-very-comfortably in his bed, feeling a bit better thanks to the pain medication, he texts Jack.  
   
_You were right._

-

**2: Connor McDavid**

_January 25, 2018_  
   
A little over a minute into overtime, Connor skates around two Flames players, taking a shot that Rittich saves. He skates across the crease, brushing against the goalie, who doesn't cover the rebound, and Ryan puts the puck in the net. Connor raises his arms in celebration; the Oilers need all the wins they can get, with the way the season's been going, and he's relieved to get another one.  
   
His relief turns to anger pretty quickly when he sees that the goal is under review.  
   
When the goal is called off, Connor is livid. He barely touched the goalie; Rittich still could've made the save.  
   
But they need this win, so he grits his teeth and moves on.  
   
-  
   
In the shootout, Connor channels his anger, tells himself that he _has_ to score; he gets to Rittich, dekes, and does exactly what he had told himself he would.  
   
Instead of the relief that usually comes with a goal, even in the shootout, he's still pissed that he ever had to take that shot. As he skates back to the bench, he points up, yelling at the referee.  
   
"Why don't you go upstairs and review that for goalie interference?"  
   
He gets a 10-minute misconduct for it, and Connor really isn't sure how much more bullshit he can deal with, but they win the game, and it's time to do media.  
   
He'll definitely have to calm down to be able to deal with that.  
   
-  
   
He makes it through his postgame interview with no issue. He acknowledges that he shouldn't have expressed his emotions, should've been a good Canadian robot – though he words it a little differently – and successfully avoids the force of a full media shitstorm directed at him.  
   
Connor leaves the locker room assuming that he's done with this particular issue. The game is won, the media has what they want from him, and he's not going to bother reading whatever articles criticizing his leadership may pop up over the next few hours.  
   
That is, until he notices that the hallway outside the locker room is uncharacteristically dark, almost like the set of a horror movie. He raises an eyebrow, but assumes it's just a boring, perfectly normal malfunction.  
   
When he hears footsteps behind him, he starts to grow a tiny bit anxious, but ignores it, resolving to be brave.  
   
"McDavid!" a voice calls out from behind him.  
   
Okay, so maybe Connor jumps a little. Not that he'll ever admit it.  
   
He turns around, and sees a figure that looks vaguely like a man approaching him. As he gets closer, Connor can see a black and white striped shirt, and knows that this man is a referee, though he can't see his face. The anger from before starts to rise once again.  
   
"What is it?" he asks, using his extensive media training to keep all emotion out of his voice.  
   
"Your actions following your shootout goal, and throughout the overtime period, were reprehensible. You have mocked the honorable position of referee, and for that, you will not be forgiven. However, we have been made privy to your comments in your postgame interview, and considering that you admitted your wrongdoing, we have agreed not to cause you any direct harm. We cannot let you off entirely, though, especially after your teammate Talbot nearly cancelled out your levelheadedness with his words, so know this: the comeback will not happen."  
   
"What does that mean?" Connor asks as the referee walks away.  
   
He doesn't get an answer.  
   
Okay, so that's – that's certainly something. Connor has never really seen eye-to-eye with referees, but he's never thought they were anything worse than humans who made mistakes sometimes.  
   
But to place a curse on his team?  
   
Technically, Connor doesn’t really _know_ that this is a curse – sure, he’s heard the rumors, but Canadian law says that all magic users are to be placed on a public registry, and none of the NHL referees are on it.  
   
(It isn't exactly socially acceptable to look people up in the registry, to preserve some measure of privacy, but it isn't really frowned upon any more than social media stalking, so Connor resolutely does not feel guilty for having done it.)  
   
All logic says that if someone's not on the registry, they're not a magic user; therefore, Connor has no reason to believe that the referee actually just placed a curse on his team.  
   
All logic also says that that is exactly what the referee just said, though.  
   
And the way he worded it – _the comeback will not happen_ – it sounds as though the Oilers were going to come back – to playoff contention, Connor assumes – but now, because of his own lack of control, the season was doomed.  
   
_Fuck_ , Connor thinks. He has to be better. He can't make such a costly mistake ever again. He has to get his emotions back under control, go full robot-mode for the rest of his career. Maybe everyone will call him boring forever, but if that's what it takes to win, then Connor will just have to grin and bear it.  
   
On the bright side, at least the media aren't aware that he just cost his team the entire season.  
   
_And they never will know_ , Connor resolves. He'll just have to forget the whole incident.  
   
-  
   
_March 14, 2018_  
   
Connor receives the text from an unknown number.

 _There's been a problem with referees casting curses on players who insult them. I've taken care of this problem. Any curses still in place cannot be eradicated, as it is unfortunately impossible, but rest assured that there will be no future curses._  
   
It's a group chat with twenty-nine others. He recognizes John Tavares, Sidney Crosby, and a few others, leading him to assume that these must be all the captains. _Maybe_ , he thinks, _I should try to be a better captain and get everyone else's number in case of the need for a mass text to every other NHL captain._  
   
Then again, that will probably never be necessary. Connor wonders idly who fixed the problem, and why he made it sound like it was as simple as re-taping a stick. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask this guy what the referee had meant when he cursed Connor.  
   
That's a problem for the offseason, Connor reasons, even though he knows the offseason is coming sooner than he would like.  
   
-  
   
_March 18, 2018_  
   
The Oilers are eliminated with ten games left to play.  
   
Connor has been expecting it, so he isn't surprised, but it still stings to know that it's all his fault.  
   
His teammates, friends, family – hell, even many of the fans – would say otherwise, and yeah, Connor has had a good season, individually, so he knows they aren't wrong to think that.  
   
He also knows that they _are_ wrong, because if he had just kept his emotions in check that one time almost two months ago, they would be a few wins away from clinching a playoff spot.  
   
It's okay, Connor reasons. This is just one season. They can try again next season, likely with another high draft pick in tow, likely with another key player sent east, and they can try again the season after that. The Oilers can still become a good team again; they _will_ become a good team again. They'll win the Stanley Cup, and Connor will get to lift it, finally, and by then, he'll be able to read an article about the draft lottery without seeing an Edmonton joke, or an article about the Devils without being reminded that _the trade was one for one_.  
   
Their comeback from the depths of the basement of the NHL hasn't ended; it's just hit a wall. It has to get worse before it gets better, right?  
   
-  
   
_April 12, 2018_  
   
It is announced that Peter Chiarelli will not be fired.  
   
Connor starts to wonder whether the curse has actually been fulfilled. He doesn't let himself wonder for long.  
   
-  
   
_April 28, 2018_  
   
They lose the draft lottery.  
   
It's not as though they had the highest chances, anyway. Really, Connor doesn't even think it's a bad thing – their cap hit won't be able to handle another first overall, and besides, this season has been proof enough that no amount of high-end draft picks alone can propel the Oilers' comeback from the bottom of the league, though it might have been nice to have an elite defenseman on the team.  
   
Still, Connor thinks about the referee's threat.  
   
_The comeback will not happen._  
   
It's easy enough to believe that he had been referring to a miracle playoff push. Connor wants to believe that.  
   
But he isn't sure that he can.

-

 **3: Jack Eichel**  
   
_January 27, 2018_  
   
"You've got to be shitting me," Jack laughs.  
   
"No way, man, I swear," Auston insists, laughing as well. They're hanging out in Jack's hotel room in Tampa, more than a little drunk after having spent some quality time with the other players after the skills competition.  
   
"What the actual fuck," Jack shakes his head. "I can't believe he actually said that to you."  
   
"Fuckin' weird, man. Clearly he's way too fucking sensitive about his job."  
   
"Clearly," Jack deadpans.  
   
Auston gets up from his spot on the bed, coming over to where Jack is leaning against the wall. He pins Jack to the wall, kissing him roughly, and Jack reaches an arm up, running his fingers through Auston's hair. When Auston starts to move his hand toward the hem of Jack's dress shirt, however, Jack grabs his hand, stopping him, before pulling apart.  
   
"Wait," he says. "About that ref – you should really tell someone. Like, your coach, or whoever. They can find out who it was, probably, and take action, get him kicked out of the league for harassment, or at the very least, suspended."  
   
"He's not going to do anything," Auston shrugs his shoulders a little. "Now come here already; I've missed you."  
   
"Okay," Jack says, not wanting to press the issue when they have more important matters at hand. "Let's get you out of those horrible pants."  
   
"They're sexy, and you know it," Auston grins. He turns to the side, giving Jack a better view of his ass, and, okay, fine, _maybe_ the pants aren't _that_ bad.  
   
-  
   
"You know," Jack starts later, when they're lying in bed, Auston's arm draped across him, the lights off as they prepare to go to sleep. Auston hums, and Jack takes it as a sign to continue. "I get that you don't want to try to take action against that ref. But we could still do something, just to make sure he knows he hasn't won."  
   
"Like what?" Auston mumbles.  
   
"I think you already know. You're the one who came up with it, after all."  
   
-  
   
_January 28, 2018_  
   
They're tied 4-4 with the Metro division near the end of the second period when Jack scores. Barkov takes a shot, hits the boards, and passes the puck over to Jack, who one-times it into the net.  
   
He looks to Auston first, and simultaneously, they stick their arms out, pointing right toward the net, signaling the good goal.  
   
Just like they had planned.  
   
Auston skates over, and Jack holds out his hand for a high-five.  
   
"That'll show 'em!" Jack yells.  
   
"Fuckin' right!" Auston yells back.  
   
-  
   
While they're preparing to start the final game, Jack steps out of the locker room for a moment of solitude; even though the game doesn't count for anything, he still likes to get in the right headspace before any game, and the vibe in the locker room is not especially serious.  
   
When the lights flicker and dim considerably, Jack curses Amalie Arena for not having better fucking lighting, especially considering the name of the team that plays there.  
   
Then he feels a hand on his shoulder.  
   
"Eichel," a man's voice says.  
   
Jack looks at him, but his face is obscured by the darkness; all he can see is the black and white stripes. A referee.  
   
"Is this another one of your bullshit scare tactics?"  
   
"I see Matthews failed to take us seriously. He was already cursed, however–" Jack tries to interrupt, but the referee waves his arm, and he finds himself unable to make any sound, no matter how much his lips move. "–so it matters not. You, Eichel, have made a terrible mistake by joining him in his mockery. Like your partner in crime, you will pay for your actions, sooner than he will. I would advise you both not to try to cross us again."  
   
The referee turns, waving his arm one more time, before walking away.  
   
Jack tries to yell at him, to tell him that he won't get away with this, that Jack is going to press charges, but the words won't come out.  
   
Shortly after the referee is out of sight, his voice decides to start working again. "–fucking pay for this, you son of a bitch!" He continues to yell, hoping the referee will hear him, but knowing that he probably won't.  
   
-  
   
He and Auston are lying in bed post-sex again when Jack tells him what happened.  
   
"They're really trying to scare us, aren't they?" Auston muses. "Are you going to tell your coach? Like you said I should?"  
   
"Yeah," Jack says. "I'm not going to just let them say this shit to us, or anyone. Even if they don't actually do anything, it's still fucking wrong."  
   
"Can you believe the refs actually get this offended over a joke at their expense during the fucking _All Star Game_?" Auston laughs.  
   
"'Most prestigious position in hockey' my ass," Jack agrees. "Bunch of fucking losers."  
   
-  
   
_January 30, 2018_  
   
Jack asks Coach Housley if they can talk privately after morning skate. He agrees.  
   
"So, Jack, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"  
   
Jack takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to spring on his coach, before speaking. "Well, Coach, I just wanted to express my concern about–" He cuts himself off, then tries again. "About my skating."  
   
_What the fuck_ , he thinks. _That's not at all what I'm trying to say_.  
   
He tries again, trying to use every bit of his energy and willpower to force himself to say what he's actually trying to say, but the words just won't come out. "I've been worried that I'm not making the progress I should be–"  
   
_Fuck_.  
   
Okay, so the referee must have cursed him. A classic can't-talk-to-anyone-who-doesn't-know-about-this-Thing-about-the-Thing curse. There goes Plan A.  
   
-  
   
_February 10, 2018_  
   
He decides to just forget the whole thing, at least for the time being. He has a season to focus on trying to salvage, and the refs have been quiet since the All Star Game. They're probably not going to make good on their threats anyway, he assumes.  
   
That is, until he plays against the Bruins, his hometown team, and goes down hard.  
   
He's tangled up with Matt Grzelcyk, his captain from his days at BU, and it's not any fault of Gryz, but he lands awkwardly, and his ankle feels like it's on fire.  
   
Of course it has to be his fucking ankle again.  
   
As he skates off the ice, he feels a piercing gaze, and he considers turning his head to see who it is, but the pain is all he can think about, so he doesn't.  
   
It's not until the pain starts to recede that he starts to consider the referee's threat.  
   
-  
   
He texts Auston that night, ignoring his gesture of sympathy to get straight to business.  
   
_Do you think the refs had anything to do with this?_  
   
Auston's reply is almost instantaneous.  
   
_Nah, nothing's happened to me. Davo told us they aren't users._  
   
Jack thinks about the time he had tried to speak to his coach about it. Auston had told him that he had just been nervous to talk to his coach about something that was technically, in a way, his fault. But Auston hadn't been there, hadn't felt his mouth saying something entirely different than his brain, hadn't almost completely lost control of his own body. There is no doubt in Jack's mind that that had been a curse.  
   
_They already cursed me before. It wasn't just nerves, Aus. You just don’t want to believe it_.  
   
Auston doesn't reply, so Jack sends another text.  
   
_He told you you had a month. Just be careful_.  
   
He knows that if there really is a curse, there's nothing Auston can do. There's no point in pushing the issue.  
   
_I don't want anything to happen to you_ , he adds.  
   
_It won't_.  
   
-  
   
_February 22, 2018_

The text from Auston comes through while Jack is watching the replay of him being sandwiched, wishing he could've been there to somehow stop it.  
   
_You were right._

Glad for the distraction, Jack replies.  
   
_What are we going to do?_

-

**4: Jamie Benn**

_March 10, 2018_  
   
Jamie is sitting alone in his hotel room in Pittsburgh, watching the Penguins take on the Leafs. He has nothing better to do, really; his teammates are all doing their own thing, and he just wants to relax before the game tomorrow. Watching the team they're about to play certainly won't hurt the Stars' chances of winning.  
   
Brian Dumoulin scores to end Andersen's 3-0 shutout, and Jamie certainly doesn't cheer, but he's a little glad; it makes the game more exciting to watch from a neutral party's perspective when it's close, and besides, a Penguins loss would only make them more likely to put in the extra effort to beat the Stars tomorrow.  
   
In the next twenty seconds, however, the referee declares that there is no goal, and assesses a two-minute penalty to the Penguins for goaltender interference.  
   
Jamie feels his brow furrow at this; he watches the replay, but he really doesn't see the logic. Sure, maybe Babcock could've tried a coach's challenge for that, and it would've been anyone's guess whether or not it would've counted, but to just immediately call the goal off? Worse, to actually give the Penguins a penalty for what Jamie thought was a perfectly good goal? He's baffled, to say the least.  
   
Since he's watching the game alone, he can't just turn and discuss the call with someone, so he decides to turn to Twitter.  
   
_2 mins for scoring. Huh?_   
   
After sending the Tweet, he reads a few of the replies, as well as others' thoughts on the matter. It seems as though most people agree that the call was bullshit, so he puts his phone down and continues watching the game.  
   
-  
   
During the second intermission, he receives a text from an unknown number.  
   
_Benn. You should have known better than to mock us. Your season ends starting tomorrow._  
   
Jamie's confused as to how this person got his number, assuming that it's a troll, but he isn't receiving any other texts or calls, so it doesn't seem as though his number has been leaked.  
   
_Who is this?_  
   
His phone buzzes again almost as soon as he locks it.

  
   
Jamie may be a little drunk, and he may be a little bit of an idiot, but he knows that zebras can't text. He rolls his eyes at the obvious trolling attempt, puts his phone down again, and watches the intermission report.  
   
-  
   
_March 11, 2018_  
   
They lose against the Penguins.  
   
On the plane that night, Jamie sits next to Tyler, and he shows him the strange text.  
   
"Weird, huh? I wonder how they got my number," Jamie says.  
   
"Bro," Tyler replies, giving him a look that says Jamie is an idiot.  
   
"What?"  
   
"You're a fucking idiot. It's not a fucking troll pretending to be a zebra."  
   
"Then what…?" Jamie trails off.  
   
"Come on, bro. Use your brain."  
   
Jamie thinks for a moment, before he realizes.  
   
"Oh my God," he says. "I _am_ a fucking idiot."  
   
Tyler pats him on the shoulder, smiling sympathetically.  
   
-  
   
_March 25, 2018_  
   
They've lost eight straight games.  
   
Eight. Straight. Games.  
   
They had only been in a wild card spot before the losing streak started, but Jamie had been so sure that they were going to make the playoffs.  
   
He wishes he had never watched that Penguins game.  
   
_Your season ends starting tomorrow_ , the zebra – now, Jamie knew it had been a referee – had texted him. The very next day, the eight game losing streak had begun.  
   
This is all his fault. Jamie's inability to stop himself from what he had thought was just a light-hearted chirp at the refs had cost the Stars the entire season.  
   
There's no chance they're going to make the playoffs now, not without one of the other teams in the race having a collapse of their own.  
   
"You know," Tyler starts as he sits next to Jamie on the plane again, "I wonder when this dumbass curse is going to let us win again."  
   
"It's already been long enough," Jamie says.  
   
Tyler hums in agreement. "I wonder how the ref found out about your Tweet, anyway. Do the refs check Twitter during intermission? I've never even thought about what they do when they're not on the ice."  
   
"Does it matter?" Jamie asks.  
   
"Well, now that Z's apparently taken care of it, no, I guess not."  
   
"I wish I could've done something myself. It's great that he did whatever the hell he did, but–"  
   
Tyler fixes him with another look as he cuts him off. "Jamie, shut up. You can't use magic, so what the fuck were you supposed to do? What matters is that you're a great player, a great guy, and a great captain, and I wouldn't be half the player I am today without you. We've been over this. Don't be so hard on yourself."  
   
Jamie's blushing, but he ignores it. "I still shouldn't have Tweeted it in the first place. It was unprofessional."  
   
"Bro, I would've said the same thing on my Insta story if I'd been watching that game; it's not like you knew the refs were going to fucking curse you over something that's not even a big deal."  
   
Jamie pointedly does not say anything about how Tyler isn't exactly the definition of professional. Still, he sighs, knowing that Tyler does have a point. "Thanks, man. It still fucking sucks, though."  
   
"Yeah," Tyler agrees. They're both quiet for a few minutes, and Jamie's about to put his headphones on and start watching a movie when Tyler speaks again. "It's not your fault, Jamie."

-

**5: Charlie McAvoy**

_February 24, 2018_  
   
In the final minutes of a tied game against the Leafs, their most likely first round playoff opponent, Charlie is in front of the net, trying to stop them from scoring. He feels someone push him – Hyman, he later finds out – and he falls right onto Tuukka before he can stop himself. Tuukka can't make it to the other side of the crease in time, slowed down by Charlie literally falling on him, and the puck hits the back of the net.  
   
He's angry at himself for half a second, shooting the puck down the ice to channel his frustration, before realizing that it doesn't matter. It's obvious that he was pushed right onto Tuukka; the goal will be reviewed, and there's no way it'll count.  
   
Cassidy issues the coach's challenge, and Charlie thinks, _okay, this isn't going to count. We'll win it in the last minute, or OT_.  
   
The goal counts.  
   
Charlie plays for the Bruins, so he's used to shitty calls, but this – this is something else.  
   
The whole team feels it: anger, yes, but mostly defeat. They're down 4-3 now with a minute left to play; even if they tie it up, they'll still have to go to overtime, and the Leafs will still get a point.  
   
The clock ticks down, and they try, but the Bruins lose. They fall to third in the division with this loss, and sure, they have a fuckton of games in hand, so it doesn't _really_ matter, but it still hurts to watch the Leafs celebrate a game that should've at least gone to overtime.  
   
-  
   
In his postgame interview, Charlie isn't surprised to be asked about his thoughts on the call. He decides to just be honest.  
   
"I don't know what goaltender interference really is," he tells the reporters. He makes sure they know that he was pushed into Tuukka. He makes sure they know that it was the wrong call to make.  
   
When he leaves the locker room, making his way to the bus that will take them to the airport, he's approached by a man in a black and white striped shirt – a referee. His face is obscured by the darkness; Charlie notices belatedly that the hallway is surprisingly dark, and he doesn't remember it having been that way the last time he played at the ACC.  
   
"McAvoy," the referee says, placing a hand on his shoulder, and Charlie suddenly feels a rush of dread. He tries to shrug the hand off, but the referee waves his arm, and Charlie suddenly finds himself unable to move.  
   
"You Americans just won't learn your _place_ ," the referee says snidely. Charlie tries to ask him what the fuck he's talking about, but he realizes that he can't move his mouth either. "Making a mockery of the most honorable of all positions in sports. Besmirching our noble position. Just like your friends, you will pay for your actions."  
   
The referee removes his hand and walks away, and finally, Charlie finds that he can move. The lights are back to a reasonable brightness, and he walks back to the bus, wondering what the hell just happened.  
   
-  
   
_February 25, 2018_  
   
When he returns to his and Anders’ apartment in Boston, well after midnight, Charlie checks his phone to find two unexpected messages. The first is from Jack:  
   
_You shouldn't have said that bro_.  
   
The other is from Auston. Auston's never been one to send bragging texts when the Leafs beat the Bruins – he's had three opportunities this season, and he hasn't done so once – not to mention that he didn't even play in this game. The text, however, has nothing to do with the result of the game.  
   
_Tell me a ref didn't approach you and say some weird shit after your postgame_.  
   
Charlie raises an eyebrow, his confusion only growing at the strange texts from his friends, but he doesn't reply, assuming that they've both fallen asleep in the hours that have passed since they sent the texts, and by the time he wakes up, he's forgotten all about the texts.  
   
-  
   
_March 3, 2018_  
   
Exactly one week later, Charlie's knee hits the boards hard in a game against the Habs, and he knows he's going to be missing some time.  
   
Later that night, he's at home – icing his knee, trying to get comfortable, and ignoring Anders’ concerned glances – when he remembers the strange texts from Auston and Jack.  
   
Jack's text had been rather cryptic, but Auston had made it seem that he knew exactly what the referee had been doing – almost as though the same thing had happened to him. And Charlie knows that Auston is injured, and so is Jack.  
   
And both of them had made their own statements essentially dissing the refs over the whole goalie interference controversy, hadn't they?  
   
_Guys_ , he texts them both. _We need to talk_.  
   
-  
   
They get on a three-way Skype call within the hour, Anders relegated to his room, and it's Auston who starts the conversation.  
   
"I assume you're calling about your injury and how you're just now realizing the refs did it to you?"  
   
"Sounds about right," Charlie agrees. "What the actual fuck?"  
   
"That's what I said," Jack adds. "Interesting; apparently I can talk about the fact that the refs cursed me to Charlie," he says to Auston. "I was worried you were going to have to do all the talking."  
   
"He was cursed so that he couldn't tell anyone about it who didn’t already know, in addition to the injury," Auston explains. "And I am perfectly capable of doing all the talking, fucker."  
   
"Sure," Jack grins. "Back to business, though. I clearly can't tell anyone else what happened, and even if one of you could, I don't know if a legal battle is really the best way to go."  
   
"So what are you suggesting?" Charlie asks.  
   
Auston sighs deeply, and casts a look into the camera that Charlie is guessing is meant for Jack. "You're really going through with this?"  
   
"Fuck yeah I am," Jack replies. "Best to fight fire with fire, don't you think, Charlie?"  
   
"By fire, do you mean magic?"  
   
"Exactly. Boy, that extra year of college really did you well, didn't it?" Jack chirps.  
   
Charlie starts to chirp back, but Auston cuts him off with a sly grin, and Charlie silently resolves to pay him back one day. "Anyway," Auston says slowly, "Jack and I don't have any magic users on our teams who are powerful enough. There's the Nylanders, but they're not powerful enough yet to try to target a whole legion of refs."  
   
"That’s it? Not Andersen?" Charlie asks, genuinely surprised. “I thought all goalies could use.”  
   
Auston shakes his head. "He's scary enough without magic," he smirks.  
   
"So, what we're asking," Jack continues. "Is there anyone on your team who's a skilled magic user? Because Chara gives me some serious vibes."  
   
"Yeah, he's a fucking beast at magic. Like everything else in life," Charlie confirms. "Tuukka and Bergy are users, too, and they're great at it, but Z's unreal."  
   
"Jesus," Jack whispers. "No wonder your team's so fucking good."  
   
"Wishing you could play for your hometown team?" Charlie chirps.  
   
"As much as you wish you were on the Rangers right now," Jack fires back, and Charlie shudders at the thought.  
   
"It sounds to me like if anyone can do this, it's Chara," Auston presses on, somehow managing to be the voice of reason for once.  
   
"I guess we have our plan," Charlie agrees.  
   
-  
   
_March 7, 2018_  
   
He doesn't tell Z immediately, being caught up in medical tests and trying to get some rest, but Auston and Jack's reminder texts keep piling up, so finally, he asks Z if they can talk about something important. Z agrees immediately, even offering to come to Charlie's apartment so that he doesn't have to move with his injured knee, and honestly, Charlie doesn't know if he could possibly have wished for a better captain.  
   
"Hey Chucky," Z greets him. "What's up?"  
   
"There's something I think you should know about my injury."

-

**+1: Zdeno Chara**

_March 7, 2018_  
   
When Charlie finishes explaining what happened to him and his friends, Zdeno is furious.  
   
_No one_ messes with his team. Not without going through him first.  
   
Having been in the league for so long, and being a magic user himself, Zdeno has, of course, heard rumors of players being cursed by the referees after having said things to piss them off. He’s heard of players being injured for saying the wrong things, and he’s heard the rumors about the Thrashers; an old teammate of his even told him once that Sean Avery's entire reputation was the result of saying something offensive to a referee. Zdeno has always dismissed these rumors, for he always looks up the names of everyone he ever meets in the magical registry, just to make sure he's always fully informed, and none of the referees, past or present, are on the registry.  
   
As it turns out, Zdeno should've believed Savvy when he'd said that all the league's referees had paid off the Canadian government to have their names removed. He had dismissed the claim as a silly conspiracy theory, but now – well, it’s the most likely explanation.  
   
"Thank you for coming to me," he tells Charlie. "I will make sure that the refs never hurt you or anyone else ever again."  
   
"What are you going to do?" Charlie asks.  
   
"Don't worry about it," Zdeno answers.  
   
-  
   
_March 8, 2018_  
   
Before the game against the Flyers that night, Zdeno addresses his team in the locker room.  
   
"Charlie has informed me that his injury was the result of a curse placed on him by a referee. I am researching a curse of my own to resolve this issue as soon as possible, and I will tell you all when I have succeeded. In the meantime, stay out of the refs' way as much as possible, and if there's a goalie interference controversy, do not say anything, no matter what. They're especially sensitive about that topic."  
   
The guys mostly nod solemnly; a few of them look a little confused, but accept his request nonetheless. Zdeno walks over to Marchy then, and Marchy doesn't even let Zdeno say what they both know he's going to say.  
   
"I won't do anything," he promises.  
   
-  
   
After the game, and after the reporters clear out, Patrice and Tuukka approach him.  
   
"If you need our help…" Patrice trails off.  
   
"I think I have it under control, but I'll let you know," Zdeno promises.  
   
"Good luck with the research," Tuukka says.  
   
-  
   
_March 13, 2018_  
   
He finds the right curse in an ancient book of spells given to him by his mother, which has been in his family for centuries, because it always seems that the older the magic, the more powerful. The curse is complex, more so than Zdeno had imagined, and it will be especially difficult on such a large scale. Curse magic is its own beast to tame, and Zdeno has never performed it before.  
   
The curse itself will be difficult, but manageable, Zdeno is sure. Though it will not be easy, he is confident that he can pull it off. The problem, however, lies with the sheer number of referees in the league. He had already determined from the beginning that he's going to have to combine the curse with an amplification spell to ensure that it affects all the referees, but the effort required to execute the curse may take too much of him for him to be able to pull off the amplification spell without a hitch.  
   
He's never forgotten it, but today, Zdeno is reminded of just how lucky he is to have Patrice and Tuukka by his side. He texts them both, and they agree to meet the next day to perform the curse.  
   
Soon, all will be right in the NHL, at least in the magic department.  
   
-  
   
_March 14, 2018_  
   
"You're going to take away their ability to use magic forever?" Patrice questions. "Is that really necessary?"  
   
_Apparently_ , Zdeno thinks, _it is times like this when Patrice really lives up to his reputation of being almost too good of a person_.  
   
"Don't forget what they did to Charlie, and Matthews, and Eichel, and who knows how many others," Tuukka reminds him. "Not to mention the whole bribing the Canadian government thing."  
   
"If anyone deserves it, it's them," Zdeno adds.  
   
"I suppose that's fair," Patrice agrees. "Okay, fine. For the protection of our players, both present and future, as well as for the sanctity of the sport: let's begin."  
   
Tuukka begins to arrange the materials on the table, mixing them together, taking care to add just the right amount of every ingredient; Patrice readies the amplification spell, and Zdeno prepares the incantation.  
   
When the mixture is complete, they stand around it, linking hands to combine their energies. Zdeno reads the incantation, putting every ounce of his strength and will into the words. As he speaks, Patrice casts the amplification spell, reciting a shorter incantation of his own. Tuukka focuses his energy on lending strength to both Zdeno and Patrice, until finally, they both stop.  
   
"I felt a great deal of magic leave the world, just now," Patrice says, almost in disbelief.  
   
"Then it worked," Tuukka grins.  
   
Zdeno, too tired to speak, merely nods in satisfaction.  
   
Patrice and Tuukka claim Zdeno's couches to take their post-curse-casting naps, and Zdeno retires to his bed. Before falling asleep, however, he takes the time to alert the other captains, as well as the alternates for the teams without a captain.  
   
_There's been a problem with referees casting curses on players who insult them. I've taken care of this problem. Any curses still in place cannot be eradicated, as it is unfortunately impossible, but rest assured that there will be no future curses._  
   
He sends a similar, though more personal, message to Charlie, thanking him again for trusting him with the information and promising him that the referees can’t hurt him ever again.  
   
Finally, Zdeno falls asleep, regaining the energy he lost from casting the curse.  
   
-  
   
_March 15, 2018_  
   
They play the Panthers that night, and Zdeno keeps his eyes on the referees the whole time.  
   
The game has barely started when he sees a referee muttering a curse in Quaider's direction - suddenly, Zdeno can't help but to wonder how many of Quaider's many injuries may have come from referees. As expected, the referee's face heats up in frustration as he realizes that his curse isn't working.  
   
_Good riddance_.  
   
He knows the refs have caught on when Backes is ejected from the game for what should have been no more than a fighting major and an instigator penalty, but Zdeno knows there is nothing he can do about this.  
   
The refs know, perhaps due to Zdeno's looks and Marchy's smugness, that the Bruins are somehow responsible for their sudden inability to use magic. Zdeno knows, therefore, that there will be negative consequences for the curse he bestowed upon them.  
   
However, none of those consequences will be injuries caused by magic, and for that, Zdeno knows that the curse is worth it.

-

_April 25, 2018_

After game seven, Zdeno meets Auston Matthews in the handshake line.

“Good job, kid,” he says. “Stay healthy next year and you’ll win a series.”

“Congrats,” Auston returns. “And thanks to you, I will.”

“Not against us, though,” Zdeno adds.

“We’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> -Non–explicit descriptions of canonical injuries  
> -Magical curses on causing said injuries, temporary loss of bodily autonomy, and losing streaks/poor performance as a team, all as a form of revenge  
> –Another magical curse forcibly removing numerous characters' magical abilities, without consent, as a form of revenge; this is not criticized in the narrative  
> -Please let me know if I missed anything that should be warned. 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://cjmasim.tumblr.com/)!


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